II + 

The hours of the Hatchard Memorial librarian were from three to five; and Charity RoyallтАЩs sense of duty usually kept her at her desk until nearly half-past four. + 

But she had never perceived that any practical advantage thereby accrued either to North Dormer or to herself; and she had no scruple in decreeing, when it suited her, that the library should close an hour earlier. A few minutes after Mr.┬аHarneyтАЩs departure she formed this decision, put away her lace, fastened the shutters, and turned the key in the door of the temple of knowledge. + 

The street upon which she emerged was still empty: and after glancing up and down it she began to walk toward her house. But instead of entering she passed on, turned into a field-path and mounted to a pasture on the hillside. She let down the bars of the gate, followed a trail along the crumbling wall of the pasture, and walked on till she reached a knoll where a clump of larches shook out their fresh tassels to the wind. There she lay down on the slope, tossed off her hat and hid her face in the grass. + 

She was blind and insensible to many things, and dimly knew it; but to all that was light and air, perfume and colour, every drop of blood in her responded. She loved the roughness of the dry mountain grass under her palms, the smell of the thyme into which she crushed her face, the fingering of the wind in her hair and through her cotton blouse, and the creak of the larches as they swayed to it. + 

She often climbed up the hill and lay there alone for the mere pleasure of feeling the wind and of rubbing her cheeks in the grass. Generally at such times she did not think of anything, but lay immersed in an inarticulate well-being. Today the sense of well-being was intensified by her joy at escaping from the library. She liked well enough to have a friend drop in and talk to her when she was on duty, but she hated to be bothered about books. How could she remember where they were, when they were so seldom asked for? Orma Fry occasionally took out a novel, and her brother Ben was fond of what he called тАЬjography,тАЭ and of books relating to trade and bookkeeping; but no one else asked for anything except, at intervals, тАЬUncle TomтАЩs Cabin,тАЭ or тАЬOpening of a Chestnut Burr,тАЭ or Longfellow. She had these under her hand, and could have found them in the dark; but unexpected demands came so rarely that they exasperated her like an injustice.тБатАКтБатАж + 

She had liked the young manтАЩs looks, and his shortsighted eyes, and his odd way of speaking, that was abrupt yet soft, just as his hands were sunburnt and sinewy, yet with smooth nails like a womanтАЩs. His hair was sunburnt-looking too, or rather the colour of bracken after frost; his eyes grey, with the appealing look of the shortsighted, his smile shy yet confident, as if he knew lots of things she had never dreamed of, and yet wouldnтАЩt for the world have had her feel his superiority. But she did feel it, and liked the feeling; for it was new to her. Poor and ignorant as she was, and knew herself to beтБатАФhumblest of the humble even in North Dormer, where to come from the Mountain was the worst disgraceтБатАФyet in her narrow world she had always ruled. It was partly, of course, owing to the fact that lawyer Royall was тАЬthe biggest man in North DormerтАЭ; so much too big for it, in fact, that outsiders, who didnтАЩt know, always wondered how it held him. In spite of everythingтБатАФand in spite even of Miss HatchardтБатАФlawyer Royall ruled in North Dormer; and Charity ruled in lawyer RoyallтАЩs house. She had never put it to herself in those terms; but she knew her power, knew what it was made of, and hated it. Confusedly, the young man in the library had made her feel for the first time what might be the sweetness of dependence. + 

She sat up, brushed the bits of grass from her hair, and looked down on the house where she held sway. It stood just below her, cheerless and untended, its faded red front divided from the road by a тАЬyardтАЭ with a path bordered by gooseberry bushes, a stone well overgrown with travellerтАЩs joy, and a sickly Crimson Rambler tied to a fan-shaped support, which Mr.┬аRoyall had once brought up from Hepburn to please her. Behind the house a bit of uneven ground with clotheslines strung across it stretched up to a dry wall, and beyond the wall a patch of corn and a few rows of potatoes strayed vaguely into the adjoining wilderness of rock and fern. + 

Charity could not recall her first sight of the house. She had been told that she was ill of a fever when she was brought down from the Mountain; and she could only remember waking one day in a cot at the foot of Mrs.┬аRoyallтАЩs bed, and opening her eyes on the cold neatness of the room that was afterward to be hers. + 

Mrs.┬аRoyall died seven or eight years later; and by that time Charity had taken the measure of most things about her. She knew that Mrs.┬аRoyall was sad and timid and weak; she knew that lawyer Royall was harsh and violent, and still weaker. She knew that she had been christened Charity (in the white church at the other end of the village) to commemorate Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs disinterestedness in тАЬbringing her down,тАЭ and to keep alive in her a becoming sense of her dependence; she knew that Mr.┬аRoyall was her guardian, but that he had not legally adopted her, though everybody spoke of her as Charity Royall; and she knew why he had come back to live at North Dormer, instead of practising at Nettleton, where he had begun his legal career. + 

After Mrs.┬аRoyallтАЩs death there was some talk of sending her to a boarding-school. Miss Hatchard suggested it, and had a long conference with Mr.┬аRoyall, who, in pursuance of her plan, departed one day for Starkfield to visit the institution she recommended. He came back the next night with a black face; worse, Charity observed, than she had ever seen him; and by that time she had had some experience. + 

When she asked him how soon she was to start he answered shortly, тАЬYou ainтАЩt going,тАЭ and shut himself up in the room he called his office; and the next day the lady who kept the school at Starkfield wrote that тАЬunder the circumstancesтАЭ she was afraid she could not make room just then for another pupil. + 

Charity was disappointed; but she understood. It wasnтАЩt the temptations of Starkfield that had been Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs undoing; it was the thought of losing her. He was a dreadfully тАЬlonesomeтАЭ man; she had made that out because she was so тАЬlonesomeтАЭ herself. He and she, face to face in that sad house, had sounded the depths of isolation; and though she felt no particular affection for him, and not the slightest gratitude, she pitied him because she was conscious that he was superior to the people about him, and that she was the only being between him and solitude. Therefore, when Miss Hatchard sent for her a day or two later, to talk of a school at Nettleton, and to say that this time a friend of hers would тАЬmake the necessary arrangements,тАЭ Charity cut her short with the announcement that she had decided not to leave North Dormer. + 

Miss Hatchard reasoned with her kindly, but to no purpose; she simply repeated: тАЬI guess Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs too lonesome.тАЭ + 

Miss Hatchard blinked perplexedly behind her eyeglasses. Her long frail face was full of puzzled wrinkles, and she leant forward, resting her hands on the arms of her mahogany armchair, with the evident desire to say something that ought to be said. + 

тАЬThe feeling does you credit, my dear.тАЭ + 

She looked about the pale walls of her sitting-room, seeking counsel of ancestral daguerreotypes and didactic samplers; but they seemed to make utterance more difficult. + 

тАЬThe fact is, itтАЩs not onlyтБатАФnot only because of the advantages. There are other reasons. YouтАЩre too young to understandтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬOh, no, I ainтАЩt,тАЭ said Charity harshly; and Miss Hatchard blushed to the roots of her blonde cap. But she must have felt a vague relief at having her explanation cut short, for she concluded, again invoking the daguerreotypes: тАЬOf course I shall always do what I can for you; and in caseтБатАКтБатАж in caseтБатАКтБатАж you know you can always come to me.тБатАКтБатАжтАЭ + 

Lawyer Royall was waiting for Charity in the porch when she returned from this visit. He had shaved, and brushed his black coat, and looked a magnificent monument of a man; at such moments she really admired him. + 

тАЬWell,тАЭ he said, тАЬis it settled?тАЭ + 

тАЬYes, itтАЩs settled. I ainтАЩt going.тАЭ + 

тАЬNot to the Nettleton school?тАЭ + 

тАЬNot anywhere.тАЭ + 

He cleared his throat and asked sternly: тАЬWhy?тАЭ + 

тАЬIтАЩd rather not,тАЭ she said, swinging past him on her way to her room. It was the following week that he brought her up the Crimson Rambler and its fan from Hepburn. He had never given her anything before. + 

The next outstanding incident of her life had happened two years later, when she was seventeen. Lawyer Royall, who hated to go to Nettleton, had been called there in connection with a case. He still exercised his profession, though litigation languished in North Dormer and its outlying hamlets; and for once he had had an opportunity that he could not afford to refuse. He spent three days in Nettleton, won his case, and came back in high good-humour. It was a rare mood with him, and manifested itself on this occasion by his talking impressively at the supper-table of the тАЬrousing welcomeтАЭ his old friends had given him. He wound up confidentially: тАЬI was a damn fool ever to leave Nettleton. It was Mrs.┬аRoyall that made me do it.тАЭ + 

Charity immediately perceived that something bitter had happened to him, and that he was trying to talk down the recollection. She went up to bed early, leaving him seated in moody thought, his elbows propped on the worn oilcloth of the supper table. On the way up she had extracted from his overcoat pocket the key of the cupboard where the bottle of whiskey was kept. + 

She was awakened by a rattling at her door and jumped out of bed. She heard Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs voice, low and peremptory, and opened the door, fearing an accident. No other thought had occurred to her; but when she saw him in the doorway, a ray from the autumn moon falling on his discomposed face, she understood. + 

For a moment they looked at each other in silence; then, as he put his foot across the threshold, she stretched out her arm and stopped him. + 

тАЬYou go right back from here,тАЭ she said, in a shrill voice that startled her; тАЬyou ainтАЩt going to have that key tonight.тАЭ + 

тАЬCharity, let me in. I donтАЩt want the key. IтАЩm a lonesome man,тАЭ he began, in the deep voice that sometimes moved her. + 

Her heart gave a startled plunge, but she continued to hold him back contemptuously. тАЬWell, I guess you made a mistake, then. This ainтАЩt your wifeтАЩs room any longer.тАЭ + 

She was not frightened, she simply felt a deep disgust; and perhaps he divined it or read it in her face, for after staring at her a moment he drew back and turned slowly away from the door. With her ear to her keyhole she heard him feel his way down the dark stairs, and toward the kitchen; and she listened for the crash of the cupboard panel, but instead she heard him, after an interval, unlock the door of the house, and his heavy steps came to her through the silence as he walked down the path. She crept to the window and saw his bent figure striding up the road in the moonlight. Then a belated sense of fear came to her with the consciousness of victory, and she slipped into bed, cold to the bone. + 

A day or two later poor Eudora Skeff, who for twenty years had been the custodian of the Hatchard library, died suddenly of pneumonia; and the day after the funeral Charity went to see Miss Hatchard, and asked to be appointed librarian. The request seemed to surprise Miss Hatchard: she evidently questioned the new candidateтАЩs qualifications. + 

тАЬWhy, I donтАЩt know, my dear. ArenтАЩt you rather too young?тАЭ she hesitated. + 

тАЬI want to earn some money,тАЭ Charity merely answered. + 

тАЬDoesnтАЩt Mr.┬аRoyall give you all you require? No one is rich in North Dormer.тАЭ + 

тАЬI want to earn money enough to get away.тАЭ + 

тАЬTo get away?тАЭ Miss HatchardтАЩs puzzled wrinkles deepened, and there was a distressful pause. тАЬYou want to leave Mr.┬аRoyall?тАЭ + 

тАЬYes: or I want another woman in the house with me,тАЭ said Charity resolutely. + 

Miss Hatchard clasped her nervous hands about the arms of her chair. Her eyes invoked the faded countenances on the wall, and after a faint cough of indecision she brought out: тАЬTheтБатАКтБатАж the houseworkтАЩs too hard for you, I suppose?тАЭ + 

CharityтАЩs heart grew cold. She understood that Miss Hatchard had no help to give her and that she would have to fight her way out of her difficulty alone. A deeper sense of isolation overcame her; she felt incalculably old. тАЬSheтАЩs got to be talked to like a baby,тАЭ she thought, with a feeling of compassion for Miss HatchardтАЩs long immaturity. тАЬYes, thatтАЩs it,тАЭ she said aloud. тАЬThe houseworkтАЩs too hard for me: IтАЩve been coughing a good deal this fall.тАЭ + 

She noted the immediate effect of this suggestion. Miss Hatchard paled at the memory of poor EudoraтАЩs taking-off, and promised to do what she could. But of course there were people she must consult: the clergyman, the selectmen of North Dormer, and a distant Hatchard relative at Springfield. тАЬIf youтАЩd only gone to school!тАЭ she sighed. She followed Charity to the door, and there, in the security of the threshold, said with a glance of evasive appeal: тАЬI know Mr.┬аRoyall isтБатАКтБатАж trying at times; but his wife bore with him; and you must always remember, Charity, that it was Mr.┬аRoyall who brought you down from the Mountain.тАЭ Charity went home and opened the door of Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs тАЬoffice.тАЭ He was sitting there by the stove reading Daniel WebsterтАЩs speeches. They had met at meals during the five days that had elapsed since he had come to her door, and she had walked at his side at EudoraтАЩs funeral; but they had not spoken a word to each other. + 

He glanced up in surprise as she entered, and she noticed that he was unshaved, and that he looked unusually old; but as she had always thought of him as an old man the change in his appearance did not move her. She told him she had been to see Miss Hatchard, and with what object. She saw that he was astonished; but he made no comment. + 

тАЬI told her the housework was too hard for me, and I wanted to earn the money to pay for a hired girl. But I ainтАЩt going to pay for her: youтАЩve got to. I want to have some money of my own.тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аRoyallтАЩs bushy black eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, and he sat drumming with ink-stained nails on the edge of his desk. + 

тАЬWhat do you want to earn money for?тАЭ he asked. + 

тАЬSoтАЩs to get away when I want to.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhy do you want to get away?тАЭ + 

Her contempt flashed out. тАЬDo you suppose anybodyтАЩd stay at North Dormer if they could help it? You wouldnтАЩt, folks say!тАЭ + 

With lowered head he asked: тАЬWhereтАЩd you go to?тАЭ + 

тАЬAnywhere where I can earn my living. IтАЩll try here first, and if I canтАЩt do it here IтАЩll go somewhere else. IтАЩll go up the Mountain if I have to.тАЭ She paused on this threat, and saw that it had taken effect. тАЬI want you should get Miss Hatchard and the selectmen to take me at the library: and I want a woman here in the house with me,тАЭ she repeated. + 

Mr.┬аRoyall had grown exceedingly pale. When she ended he stood up ponderously, leaning against the desk; and for a second or two they looked at each other. + 

тАЬSee here,тАЭ he said at length as though utterance were difficult, тАЬthereтАЩs something IтАЩve been wanting to say to you; IтАЩd ought to have said it before. I want you to marry me.тАЭ + 

The girl still stared at him without moving. тАЬI want you to marry me,тАЭ he repeated, clearing his throat. тАЬThe ministerтАЩll be up here next Sunday and we can fix it up then. Or IтАЩll drive you down to Hepburn to the Justice, and get it done there. IтАЩll do whatever you say.тАЭ His eyes fell under the merciless stare she continued to fix on him, and he shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. As he stood there before her, unwieldy, shabby, disordered, the purple veins distorting the hands he pressed against the desk, and his long oratorтАЩs jaw trembling with the effort of his avowal, he seemed like a hideous parody of the fatherly old man she had always known. + 

тАЬMarry you? Me?тАЭ she burst out with a scornful laugh. тАЬWas that what you came to ask me the other night? WhatтАЩs come over you, I wonder? How long is it since youтАЩve looked at yourself in the glass?тАЭ She straightened herself, insolently conscious of her youth and strength. тАЬI suppose you think it would be cheaper to marry me than to keep a hired girl. Everybody knows youтАЩre the closest man in Eagle County; but I guess youтАЩre not going to get your mending done for you that way twice.тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аRoyall did not move while she spoke. His face was ash-coloured and his black eyebrows quivered as though the blaze of her scorn had blinded him. When she ceased he held up his hand. + 

тАЬThatтАЩll doтБатАФthatтАЩll about do,тАЭ he said. He turned to the door and took his hat from the hat-peg. On the threshold he paused. тАЬPeople ainтАЩt been fair to meтБатАФfrom the first they ainтАЩt been fair to me,тАЭ he said. Then he went out. + 

A few days later North Dormer learned with surprise that Charity had been appointed librarian of the Hatchard Memorial at a salary of eight dollars a month, and that old Verena Marsh, from the Creston Almshouse, was coming to live at lawyer RoyallтАЩs and do the cooking. + 